A Night Out
by sigma-squared
Summary: Jack finally buys the Doctor that drink, but the night doesn't go the way Jack intends. All's well that ends well though, eh? Implied slash, DoctorJack. One shot.


AN: Written in response to a post by thegreatesthits (livejournal user) on livejournal community galacticconman. Doesn't quite stick to what was asked for... Anyway, it's my first posted fic & I'm really not sure about it, so constructive criticism would be great. 

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**A Night Out**

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It was high time, Jack thought, that he bought the Doctor that drink. So the next time they stopped off to visit Rose's mum, Jack suggested that Rose show them around a bit. Take him and the Doctor for a night out in 21st Century London. Rose looked surprised for a moment, then smiled and said 'why not?' 

So here they were, seated at a bar somewhere in London, being deafened by loud, thudding music, choked by inescapable clouds of cigarette smoke, and despite it all, having a good time. Jack was, at least. Rose certainly was, she'd met up with a few of her friends and had spent the evening catching up on gossip in the far corner. Even the Doctor appeared to be taking the much needed chance to relax a little, becoming more chatty than Jack remembered seeing him before, even if he still didn't think he'd be able to convince the Doctor to dance. 

If he could just get the Doctor to drink a little more... In some ways, Gallifreyan physiology wasn't that dissimilar to human, and Jack would be glad of any help he could lay his hands on to get closer to the Doctor. The Doctor, however, liked to savour his drinks, meaning that after one and a half hours in the bar, the Doctor was still only on his second drink. 

Jack hadn't let that stop him, of course. _So many cocktails, so little time,_ was his own philosophy on the matter. 

His latest trial was a neon blue monstrosity called a Long Island Iced Tea. Jack couldn't see why, as there didn't seem to be tea included anywhere in the drink. There were, however, 5 different shots of highly alcoholic liquor, all for a fiver. Which was about all it was worth, Jack reflected, grimacing at the harsh taste. 

"Any good?" the Doctor asked, noticing his expression. 

"Try it," Jack offered, shaking his head. The Doctor took a small sip, and slid the drink back across the table to Jack. 

"Think I'll stick with beer, thanks." 

Jack finished the drink anyway, after all, he'd payed good money for it. 

After a couple of hours of chat and subtle flirting, Jack looked up to find Rose and her friends approaching. 

"We're gonna go find a club," she told them, leaning in close so that they could hear her above the loud music. "Want to come?" 

Jack looked at the Doctor. He didn't seem overly enthusiastic, and Jack couldn't really picture the Doctor in that sort of situation, at least not enjoying it. 

"No, I think we'll head back to the TARDIS," he suggested, receiving an accepting nod from the Doctor. "See you later?" 

"Don't wait up." Rose flashed Jack a grin, then turned to the Doctor. "You two gonna be ok without a chaperone?" she asked cheekily. 

"Oy!" the Doctor protested. "We'll be fine. Off you go, have fun." With a final grin, he watched as Rose and her friends departed, chatting animatedly. He turned to Jack. "Well, want to stay here any longer, or...?" 

"Go back to the TARDIS where we can talk without having to shout?" Jack grinned, downing the remainder of his drink. 

"Brilliant idea," the Doctor smiled. Jack must have had more to drink than he'd thought, because he felt decidedly unsteady when he stood to put his jacket on. He didn't think the Doctor had noticed though- 

Oh. An arm slipped around his waist, pulling him upright in time to save him the indignity of walking slapbang into the door frame on their way out. 

"Thanks," Jack grinned, unabashed, as he looked up at the Doctor. The Doctor didn't say anything, only smiled back in a way that made the world spin a little faster around Jack. That, or it was down to the alcohol, Jack conceded mentally. 

It wasn't far back to where they'd left the TARDIS, and a good thing too, the Doctor mused, he'd had enough trouble getting Jack this far without both of them ending up flat on the floor. Jack must still be absorbing the alcohol from his last few drinks, because impossible though it seemed, he appeared to be getting more drunk. 

Jack let himself be propped up against the TARDIS while the Doctor fumbled to unlock the door. Having done so, the Doctor slung Jack's arm around his shoulders again and helped him to a chair inside. Jack watched, confused, as the Doctor left him. He sat still, wishing the world would follow his example, until the Doctor reappeared with a large glass of clear liquid, which he handed to Jack. 

"Is this vodka?" Jack asked, peering at the glass suspiciously. "Because I don't think I should have any more of that tonight." 

"No, just water," the Doctor reassured him patiently. "Drink up, Jack." 

With a last encouraging nod from the Doctor, Jack did as he was told, draining the glass and trying not to miss the floor when he put it down. 

"You are in a state, aren't you," the Doctor murmured rhetorically. "Come on. Bed," he ordered, holding out a hand to help Jack up. Jack took a couple of steps, swayed, and was only saved from falling flat on his face by the Doctor's quick arm around his waist again. 

"That's very forward of you, Doctor," Jack flirted. "I like a man who takes charge." The Doctor's eyes widened, and he quickly moved Jack's wandering hand safely to his hip. 

"I'm amazed you've got the brain power to flirt like that when you're thoroughly hammered," he muttered, guiding Jack's arm around his shoulders and staggering slowly towards his room. 

"I'm a very special guy," Jack slurred, stumbling. The Doctor pulled him upright again for the last few steps before depositing Jack limply on his bed. 

"Can you get undressed by yourself?" the Doctor asked. "That'd be a 'no', then," he added quietly as, devoid of support, Jack flopped backwards onto the bed. 

The Doctor leaned down to remove Jack's coat, and Jack leaned up at the same time, his lips unerringly seeking the Doctor's. Unfortunately, his sense of distance was off, and Jack blinked as their noses clashed painfully. The Doctor pressed him back down lightly with a hand on his chest and a gentle smile. 

"Not now, Jack, eh?" he placated his companion, moving to the end of the bed to pull the heavy boots off. He left the rest of Jack's clothes on, though. He wasn't in any doubt as to how Jack would react if the Doctor started trying to undress him. "Time to sleep now," he suggested cheerfully. No reply. "Jack?" The Doctor leaned over the bed and smiled faintly. Aided by the large amount of alcohol in his system, it seemed Jack was already asleep. 

The Doctor looked around the room. Jack's only comfortable chair was piled high with clothes, so it looked like he'd be sleeping on the floor. He didn't really fancy going back to his own room and leaving Jack alone in here, just in case. He went down the corridor a few rooms to find himself a couple of blankets and a pillow. 

When he came back, Jack had rolled over, now lying on his side facing the middle of the bed. The Doctor took a second look. Well, it _was_ a double bed... (and trust the TARDIS to give _Jack_ a double bed... she'd got his number the minute he walked in, the Doctor thought affectionately.) The Doctor covered Jack with one of the blankets he'd brought back, then he wrapped himself in the other and lay down next to Jack. 

Half-asleep, Jack was only dimly aware of movement on the bed next to him. He heard the Doctor sigh, and snuggled a little closer, thowing an arm around the Doctor and holding on to him firmly. The Doctor tensed, squirming a little. Realising there was no way to move without waking Jack, the Doctor lay still and relaxed into the contact and allowed himself to slide into welcoming sleep. 

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End file.
